The red alert points continued along the interstate, bypassing the turn they’d taken completely.
“Computer, keep bogies in sight and continue to contact Control . . .”
“No,” Gypsy told him quietly. “They’ll have your transponder number, possibly to the vehicle as well as your phone. They have to have or they wouldn’t have known you were headed to the hotel rather than my apartment. If they’re using traditional GPS, then your vehicle transponder will still appear to be on the interstate, though very soon, they’ll realize it’s not. Block your transponder and satellite number until we’re closer to the hotel.”
He was silent for long seconds before giving the computer the command and listening silently as it was confirmed.
Hell, he should be confronting her over the information she had. Jonas was going to blow a gasket, because the connecting routes she gave the computer to use weren’t listed as connecting on the Bureau’s GPS files. Which meant they weren’t listed on anyone’s files. That information, added to her knowledge of transponder and satellite signal tracking, was like a fucking nail in the coffin where hiding her was concerned now.
Fuck, this was a mess.
A mess he had no idea how to save his mate from.
CHAPTER 19
They arrived at the Navajo Suites without incident and pulled into the valet parking, where a Breed Enforcer stepped forward as Rule moved around the Dragoon to open her door. She stepped from the vehicle mutinously, glaring at him, full female fury gleaming in her eyes.
The moment the threat of danger had passed, she had sat back in her seat silently and completely refused to speak to him.
Just what the hell he needed. His mate angrier than ever at a time when he needed her cooperation the most. And he couldn’t blame anyone but himself.
If he hadn’t been too damned stupid to realize exactly what had been going on over the past few months . . .
If he hadn’t been too damned stubborn to claim what was his when he’d first suspected who she was to him, and offered instead to trade his helpless, vulnerable mate for Lawe’s warrior mate . . .
No wonder his brother doubted they were actually kin.
Hell, Rule was beginning to wonder why Lawe had even claimed him after that ridiculous offer. Because no woman could fit him more perfectly than his Gypsy.
And no doubt Lawe felt the same way about his own fiery mate.
“I would prefer to go home,” she told him as his hand curved around her upper arm to escort her inside the lobby.
“I would prefer you hadn’t left to begin with and had given me the time I needed to explain what was going on,” Rule bit out, furious with himself more so than her, but furious all the same.
“Yeah, I really wanted to wait until you managed to disinfect yourself before you gave me a ride home.” She was clearly offended.
Tugging at the grip he had on her arm, she made the journey across the spacious floor just as difficult as possible without calling attention to the fact that she was there involuntarily.
“I’d stop attempting to piss me off while it’s still possible for me to maintain control, sweetheart,” he advised her. “Because, trust me, you have no idea the edge I’m riding right now.”
For all her anger, for all the pain and hurt feelings that flowed through her, though, the smell of her heat still managed to intoxicate him. Arousal spiced with a hunger he couldn’t quite decipher fully. Emotions he couldn’t identify quite yet created an exhilarating scent that had his dick iron hard.
Talking would definitely have to come later.
First, God help him, first he needed to show his fiery little mate exactly who she belonged to. Exactly why she couldn’t continue to fight him this way. If it didn’t stop, then there wasn’t a chance in hell he could protect this incredible gift he’d been given.
It was his place to protect her. And he was beginning to suspect she was going to need more protection than he had ever imagined.
She was his mate.
His mate.
She was his.
One woman.
A woman he was beginning to suspect could complete him in ways he had never imagined.
...
Stop attempting to piss him off?
Who the hell did he think he was?
Glaring up at him, standing stiffly beside him as they stepped into the elevator, Gypsy was all too aware of the fact that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t really fight him.
She could have escaped him a dozen times during that damned ride. She knew exactly how to deactivate the door locks on those stupid Dragoons. Yet she had been unable to make herself do so.
Instead, she had sat silently, refusing to respond to his attempts to talk to her, to ease the anger still simmering inside her. To soothe the aching hurt that still lanced at her heart.
It wasn’t just anger or hurt, though.
She ached for him.
Especially since that kiss had fired every freaking neural receptor in her system.
She ached for him with a power that shocked her and infuriated her. Because she should hate him.
She should hate what he was doing to her. What her body was doing to her and her complete inability to make it stop or to control it.
The arousal, her hunger for his touch, his possession, had her stifling a scream of outrage.
Because it wasn’t fair.
Her jeans had to be damp. She knew her panties were soaked. Her nipples were so damned hard that each rasp of her bra against them only primed her higher for his touch.
Hell, his touch was all she could think about.
His touch.
His kiss.
His lips on her nipples, between her thighs.
Her thighs clenched at the thought. Her fantasies hadn’t come close to the pleasure he had given her, even before he’d jumped from her as though she sickened him.
The pleasure had been incredible. It had whipped through her, searing her body with increasingly powerful sensations until that edge of release she’d touched had been a second of pure nirvana. A pleasure unlike anything she’d imagined in her life.
And she had a damned good imagination.
The elevator doors slid open on the floor where his suite was located. Tightening his grip on her upper arm once again, he all but dragged her to the doors, where he pressed his thumb to the biometric lock—a new installation, she noticed suspiciously—opened the doors, then pulled her inside.
God, had he somehow figured out she was in his suite—
That thought was abruptly cut off.
Before Gypsy could do more than draw a breath, he’d pushed her against the door, his lips covering hers as his hands curved around the back of her thighs and lifted her. Dragging her legs around his hips, he used his body to hold her against the door as he ground the hard wedge of his cock against the sensitive mound of her pussy.
The whimper that left her lips was embarrassing.
Hungry, desperate need. Like a friggin’ cat in heat was what she sounded like.
Her hands slid into his hair, her lips parting beneath his as she accepted the hard thrust of his tongue against her own before the subtle taste of spicy sweetness had her attempting to lick at the invader demandingly, her lips closing on it to catch as much of it as possible.
Each taste seemed to push her higher. As though the teasing heat of his kiss were enough to stroke her senses to a fever pitch of arousal.
Her knees gripped his hard hips, another moan escaping her throat as the heated strength of the heavy shaft ground against her. The firm pressure stroked denim and silk over the swollen bud of her clit as her hips tilted to get closer to the caress.